The Dance
by AnonymousLily
Summary: A night in the life of Captain Gregg. Links to the epsiodes Double Trouble, Vanessa, and the pilot. OC's by necessity. T for a bit of bad language and mention of adult situations.


In a Boston boarding house, Captain Daniel Gregg looked in the mirror to ascertain he'd tamed his cowlick and his dress uniform looked crisp. He noticed a grey hair in his beard without flinching, hoping only that he would never resemble the scarecrow husks of old men who haunted the general store in Schooner Bay. They'd sit outside in the summer, soaking up sunlight, and huddle around the wood burning stove in bitter winter, gossiping like women all the while. He was well aware they believed he fathered the blasted Anderson bastard just because he had hired the infant's hideous Grandmother (she looked 100 and had a wart on her nose) as his housekeeper at too high a wage. Someone had to ensure that that sad household of a crone, a silly nit of a girl, and a baby didn't suffer hunger. His charity had been widely misinterpreted, not that others' opinions bothered him . . . much. As a result, his lovely new Gull Cottage was ill kept and sometimes required his stooping to women's work. C'est la vie. It wasn't the baby's fault it had been born.

His mood improved as he strolled out the door onto the bustling streets. He enjoyed the crowds and the cool night air on his way to Noah's for the dance. No doubt his old mentor the retired Captain Mike Kinney would be there and bedevil him for not escorting a lady, but Miranda had become tedious with her hints regarding matrimony and his giving up the sea. He'd made her no promises. Tonight there would be an abundance of beauties he hadn't yet met with which to acquaint himself. Perhaps he might even find the one he sought, find one womanly and intelligent and beautiful enough to hold his wandering attention. Just because he hadn't met her yet didn't mean she didn't exist.

He walked past the many carriages and entered the ball room lit by hundreds of candles, light and shadow weaving among the couples dancing. Ah, but the women there were like a bouquet overwhelming his senses: society roses with their hidden thorns, fresh as a daisy hearty country girls, hot house exotics so unique and fragile, the shy and brooding foxgloves eternally staring downwards. He watched the women, smiling, deep in thought. He noticed a tall and lovely redhead in an oddly informal brown dress. She was nibbling a petit four, her eyes shining with unhidden delight as she watched the couples dancing. Perhaps she was the one, and if she wasn't, she would still make an enchanting partner on the dance floor and he intended to steal a kiss by evening's end. He approached confidently. "Excuse me, Miss. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you. I'm Captain Daniel Gregg."

She had smiled up at him enticingly until he said his name, at which point she wrinkled her brow. "I'm Roisin Conner. I know another Captain Daniel Gregg; isn't that queer? Is Daniel Gregg a common name here in the states?"

Her musical Irish lilt charmed him, but the notion of another Daniel Gregg was absurd! He teased, "I can assure you nothing about me is common and I'm the last of my line anyhow. Where did you meet this other Daniel Gregg?"

"In Galway when he was on leave. He said he'd return to me but it's been a year now so I came here."

"Did he say where exactly he called home?"

"A Schooner Bay, a small village I believe."

He struggled to maintain his temper. Either this was some form of bad practical joke or someone had lied to the lady. "What did he look like, Miss. Conner?"

Her smile grew soft, tender almost with the memory, which served to irritate him. "He's a fine tall man much like yourself, but heavier, more muscular, with white blonde hair and a dimple in the center of his chin."

He narrowed his eyes. It sounded like that blasted Fraser who had once been his first-mate, a man who cut corners whenever he could. This was outrageous that he'd use his good name to court a beautiful woman! "The man you described sounds like an old crew member of mine, a scoundrel who apparently has been using my name. He will suffer the consequences for this; I personally will see to it."

She bit her lip, her eyes wounded as though he was to blame for telling her the blasted truth. She softly asked, "What's his real name?"

He weighed not telling her, but could think of no justification. "Clifford Fraser. He was dishonorably discharged last year."

She nodded, and he was heartened to see a flash of anger in her eyes. "I need no revenge. It's as if he never existed to me now."

He kissed her hand and her eyes grew wide. "Good. A lovely woman like you shouldn't be standing by the wall. Come dance with me."

She took his arm and he led her out to the center of the room, taking her bare hand in his gloved one and resting his other hand lightly on her waist. They chatted while dancing and he realized she was poor, sheltered, but not unintelligent. Her hand wasn't as soft as a typical lady's, but her waist beneath his hand was softer. It was both shocking and somehow sweet that he felt no stays, no whale bone.

She then destroyed the spell she was casting on him by revealing too much. "Many a man at home cast eyes on me, but none of them but one had the resources to assist my family. Mr. Fraser led me to believe he was very rich and would help to support my family. My da can't work anymore and my mother is dead. I'm the eldest of nine."

He felt betrayed. She wasn't a romantic young woman whose love had been betrayed by a rascal; no, she was flinty and sharp as a merchant but trading on her beauty instead. He didn't know if she'd deem him rich enough and he didn't want to know. When the music stopped, he thanked her for the dances and excused himself. He decided to get a glass of wine and then acquaint himself with some other beauty.

As he sipped, watching the women, his old mentor retired Captain Mike Kinney approached and slapped him on the back. "Daniel, good to see you here! Any excitement on your last voyage?"

"Aside from a fool smuggling a tarantula that got loose on board, none. Why he thought to bring it home with him, I can't know. There was nothing as bad as the time we had to transport that blasted prize bull!"

Mike laughed. "Still complaining about me ordering you to distract it? We had to repair the hull where he'd damaged it and you weren't gored. Remember it was after that I introduced you to that island village in the Pacific where all the ladies greeted you bare breasted with a kiss. I usually didn't bring crewmen with me there! I'd hope to fluster you but you didn't bat an eye."

He grinned. "I more than batted an eye when you introduced me that brothel in Hong Kong. I was so green then that I never imagined a man would want to look like a woman. That was worse than the blasted bull!"

"Aye, but the look on your face when you shot out of that bedroom made up for all the times ladies preferred you to me even though I was your superior officer! Those were the days, weren't they? I used to be jealous of your skill with the ladies until I found my Sarah. Speaking of which, we'd like you to join us for dinner tomorrow night if you're still in town."

"So long as Sarah isn't matchmaking again, I'd appreciate it. She's a wonderful woman, but what she deems a 'good catch' are exactly the sort I'd throw back into the sea." Mike's face appeared overly innocent. "Mike! Not another razor tongued spinster or worn out widow with numerous children thrown at me!"

Mike laughed. "Daniel, my niece Vanessa is visiting for the month and she loves to hear my tales of seamanship. This isn't matchmaking; it's merely providing entertainment for a young woman stuck with us old folks. She's family though and I don't expect anything to come of you meeting her except her hearing new stories."

Mollified, he nodded. "Good, I need no assistance in matters of the heart."

"Neither does she. Seven o'clock. I see Watson has cornered Sarah, probably lecturing about temperance. I'd best rescue her before she loses her temper." He fondly watched his old mentor, still vigorous and lively, lead his grey haired wife out to the dance floor. The two smiled at each other, seeming to communicate without words. He decided he would never age like the gossips in Schooner Bay; no, he would grow old like Mike and hopefully with a fine woman at his side as well.

He eyed the ladies who weren't dancing and saw an elegant blonde in a vivid red dress. He walked over to her, introduced himself, and asked her to dance. She frostily informed him, "I think not, sir. Perhaps my maid, the one wearing my old afternoon dress, whom you've already danced with repeatedly, would care to repeat the performance."

He smiled wickedly. "Perhaps so. Certainly she is more of a lady than you are." He bowed and retreated while she turned red. Blasted woman! How dare she pass judgment on him and the poor young woman who worked as a domestic! Honest work should be no cause for shame! He was better off as a bachelor than catering to the odd prejudices of women!

He danced with a few ladies, none that held his interest, and spoke with Noah and the admiral. Roisin beckoned him toward a curtained alcove and he followed, curious. "Captain Gregg, I've just been discharged from my duties here, so I'll be going home. I've decided to accept the proposal of a man there."

"Congratulations and I wish you great joy." She was a strange woman, he thought to himself.

"Soon I'll be Mrs. Callahan, living in a drafty old castle with a fat old man whose breath reeks of the whiskey he continually imbibes. I'll be buried in the marriage bed soon enough. Take me with you, just for tonight. I don't want him to have my virginity as well as the rest of my life."

He was shocked to hear such blunt words, but he also pitied her "Miss Conner, tempting as your offer is, you're being foolish."

"I'm not being foolish! I thought you . . . well, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, does it?"

The hopelessness in her voice stung him. Without thinking, he kissed her, and broke off when she seemed to so easily melt in his arms. "Roisin, may I walk you home tonight?" She smiled slowly up at him. When he had first seen her, first chose her from all the ladies, he'd hoped she was the one and if she wasn't, he'd intended to merely steal a kiss from those soft lips. Now here she was, offering herself up for the taking. She was not the one he sought, not the one he could stay with even if she weren't marrying, but she was enough to make him forget the past and the future for one night.


End file.
